


Blue days

by LostMe



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, No-powers, all human characters, medical rubish, paralysed Vegeta, scyfy cures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2018-08-31 17:46:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8587948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostMe/pseuds/LostMe
Summary: Vegeta knew how to take a beating in the field. He also knew how to take a beating from life. It certain was easier when he had Bulma’s help.My account of an all human cast and how would Vegeta cope when he loses his family, his life and his body.





	1. Blues

Yeah. That was it. They were finished, for sure. Tonight was Bulma’s prom. And tonight, that poor excuse of boyfriend of hers preferred to train baseball. Ok. Preferred was a strong term and she knew it. That was the whole cause of the real problem. His coach has said he needed to start training more seriously or he was out of the team. And Yamcha had a sports scholarship, so being out of the team was being out of the college. So he really had no choice, besides maybe arguing that JUST tonight he needed to be there for his girlfriend. But ok, she could understand that. That was exactly why she tried to maintain the original plan.

After all, tonight was Bulma’s prom. Her original plan was to go to the party with her stunning rising baseball player, have the couple be crowed as the king and queen of the ball, and then spend the night with him at a fancy hotel. It was going to be her first time. She thought she was ready and wanted it to be special for her and for her older boyfriend. So what if she had to go to the ball alone and was not crowed as queen? Really, it was no big deal. She could meet her boyfriend after he finished training and they could still have her magical night.

So she drove around one hour in her prom dress just to meet him in his college dorm. For what? Just to witness a random blonde woman and Yamcha having sex. Oh… She could assure anyone in the world neither of them had finished, bad pun intended. Because as soon as she understood what was happening, she went ballistic. When she was done, the woman had only half of her hair still in her head and Yamcha had deep nail wounds in his face and chest, along with crushed balls, courtesy of a very well aimed kick from Bulma.

“At least have you really had training tonight?” She asked, before going out. She never heard Yamcha’s answer.

And that was why she was in a random bar, ordering some alcohol. Such a perfect night. Now she didn’t have the will to drive back home, nowhere to pass the night and no boyfriend. Brilliant. The only thing that was lacking was a really depressing song and… And just like that “I know it is over”by The Smiths started to play.

“At least it is not Jeff Buckley’s version.”A voice said, at her side.

Bulma was going to replay that she was not interested in company just when Morrissey sang“ If you're so very entertaining then why are you on your own tonight?” and her anger was replaced by a deep sorrow. 

‘Because tonight is just like any other night.’ She though in sync with the song.

She then raised her eyes to find a very handsome guy seating himself at her side, bringing in one hand one beer and in the other sake with crushed strawberries, to replace the one she had just finished. A handsome and familiar guy… Vegeta? Vegeta Sayan III?

“You are very far from home to be getting drunk, girl.”Vegeta said.

“BULMA! My name is BULMA!” She replied.

“So you keep saying.” He said, bringing the bear to his lips.

“And yet you keep calling me girl…”

“You know, Einstein defined insanity as doing always the same thing expecting different results.”

“I’m not insane!” She argued.

“Well, I wasn’t sure either if you are aware that you were doing the same or if you were expecting different results, but since you just confirmed both yourself…” He trailed off.

“Urgh! You are still such a jerk!” She complained, before taking a sip of the drink he brought her.

“You know, you shouldn’t accept drinks from strangers…” He said.

“You are not a stranger, you insufferable asshole.”

That got a smile from Vegeta.

“So, what is your sad story?” She said, after half of the drink was consumed.

“My what?” He replied, half distracted by the bottle cap.

“Your sad story”.

“Well, my father was murdered, my mother married a stupid businessman and the once called Sayan empire is now dust in the wind, and so I’m attached to a stupid sports scholarship to try and have a decree that probably won’t help my future at all. But I think you already knew that, after all.” He replied, before frowning and drinking what remained from his beer.

Bulma was shocked from his bluntness for a whole minute before she tried again.

“No… I meant… Why are you in this sad excuse of a bar getting drunk? Actually, were have you been?”

“I’m not getting drunk. Well, I am, but that is not why I’m here.”

“So, what are you doing here?”

“Just passing time. Hold on, what is YOUR sad history?”

Compared to his past, her motives to be getting drunk seemed so, so insignificant… But they were the truth, so she said what happened.

“So you are miles from home, getting drunk, because that poor excuse of a baseball player cheated on you?” He asked.

“Yeah, it is basically it.”

“Want me to aim at his crouch at training?”

“It won’t be necessary. I don’t think he will have any feeling in that area for the next weeks… Hang on, are you in the baseball team? I thought you played football?”

“I do. And I do. Actually, I’m kind of replacement in the baseball team, so I only train with them. I have a pretty good aim, you know?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

Actually, she was certain Vegeta’s aim was the best in the world, be it with a baseball, football or basketball. Or a dart. Or a pencil. Or a grain of salt. She, the high school coach, the college coach and many other coaches and journalists across the globe were certain of that. A lot of people were paying a lot of attention in Vegeta because of his aim. 

“Why are you not in the official baseball team?” She asked.

“To be in the team would be to make someone lose a scholarship. I don’t need this kind of guilt over my shoulders.”

“Sure.”

“Really, Tarble also got a sport scholarship and it is in the baseball team. It would probably be him to be gone.”

“Tarble? Your brother?”

Vegeta nodded and she understood. Vegeta’s father, Dr. Vegeta Sayan II, was a brilliant chemist. Brilliant to the point of revolutionize the pharmaceutical market and institute what got the nickname of the Sayan Empire. He and Bulma’s own father, Dr. Trunks Briefs, were business partners and close friends. Capsule Corporation and the Sayan Empire made very important discoveries together, like the very first prototypes of the hoi poi capsules. So, Bulma knew Vegeta and Tarble since she was a toddler – even if the boys’ relationship with their father was strained. However, before any of the real functional hoi poi capsules were available, Dr. Vegeta was murdered. And nobody really knew why or by whom. Soon, just as Vegeta had related some minutes before, his mother married Dr. Vegeta’s associate, Mr. Freeza Kold. In less than three years the whole Sayan Empire was dismantled. It was Bulma’s father, and the royalts of the hoi poi capsules that never got to Dr. Vegeta’s name, that assured Vegeta and Tarble’s education, until Vegeta showed potential enough to earn his scholarship and go to college all by himself. She didn’t know Tarble had been capable to do the same. But she was glad.

“Well… That wasn’t how I expected the night going… But it was good to see you again, Vegeta.”

“Whatever, girl.”

“Jerk. You know… I was supposed to be losing my virginity tonight. Not be here getting drunk.”

“And I was supposed to be the heir of an empire, remember? Shit happens. At least you can still have what you want.”

“Is that an offer?” She asked, with one very well defined eyebrow raised.

“Why not? I’m drunk enough.”

“Asshole.”

“Crazy harpy.”

“Jerk.”

“Blue headed witch.”

“Vegetable head.”

“Bitch.”

“Bastard.”

“Brat.”

In the end, they went to Vegeta’s bedroom (just one floor below Yamcha’s) and did have sex. It was a slow affair, and Bulma was grateful. It involved a little bit of pain and a lot of strange sensations, but she thought that if she couldn’t have her magical night with her boyfriend of two years, a hotnight with her even hotter childhood acquaintance was a replacement as good as she could have. At least she felt avenged, even if she wasn’t particularly happy. 

She was just doing a lot of thinking, still under Vegeta’s cooling off body, when her cellphone started to ring. Vegeta got up and put a pair of boxers that felled on a nearby chair, while she wrapped herself with a sheet from the bed and started to dig for her phone in her bag, into the pile of her clothes on the floor. Just as she got it, Vegeta, from the other side of the room, has plugged his electronic guitar and was playing some notes that suspiciously resembled “Janie’s got a gun” from Aerosmith.

“Hello?” She answered, maintaining her eyes fixed on Vegeta.

“Bulma got a gun.” He sang. His voice was ridiculously similar to Steven Tyler’s.

“It is just my phone, Vegeta.” She murmured, trying to understand what was being said in the other side of the line, over Vegeta’s parodied version of the aforementioned song.

“A mass destruction gun. Whole world’s come undone.She could destruct the Sun.”

“Can you be quiet? I’m trying to talk to my father!” She replied.

“What did her daddy dooo? What they’ll put us through? They say they are genius but they could turn the world a wreck of a traiiiiin. We should have seen it coming now that Bulma’s got a gun the world ain’t never gonna be the saaaame!”

“Vegeta...”

“She’ll screech off her buns! She’ll screech off her buns! Dog days has just begun. Now everybody is on the ruuun!”

“I swear I…”

“Tell me now it's untrue, what will she ever do. She is pretty but crazy, baby! She will turn us all insane. No matter the spell she put you under, the harpy is louder than thunder, survive it is like stay dry on the raaiiiin!”

Somewhere along that piece she had abandoned her phone and, not aware she had also lost her sheet, started running after him. Vegeta gently dropped the guitar but, easily sidestepping her, continued to sing.

“Run away, run away with your brain! Run away, run away while you’re sane!

“Will you stop this nonsense?” She asked, as soon as she got him. Or he got her, to be more accurate.

“Bulma got a gun.” She heard him murmuring, against her ear.

“Oh, for the love of…”

“More than just one gun…” He sang, while massaging one of her breasts.

“Ok, I’m listening.” She moaned, before surrendering herself to his touch once again, her cell phone completely forgotten.


	2. Red bimbo

He didn’t like it one bit when he got home and found his door unlocked. Ok, it was highly improbable that his high end apartment was being robbed and chances were that the concierge of the apartment complex has let whoever was there in but… That was still disturbing as hell.

He got inside his apartment slowly. Ok, Vegeta wasn’t the tallest man around. He was probably the shortest player in his team… But he knew he was strong. With a damn good aim too. Instinctively, he got hold of his keychain, that sported a heavy metal football replica that he was certain could kill a man if well shot, and turned the lights on.

Well, he did find the invader soon enough. It was kind of hard to miss a half-naked woman with cropped black hair and heavy make up, clad in very tiny red lingerie and very large also red stilettos sitting in your pristine white sofa. It was kind of harder to miss her when she was getting up and approaching you.

“I’ve heard someone had a hard day…” She said, in her sickly sweet voice, while trying to caress his shoulder over the hoodie he was using. 

“This someone is not interested.” He replied, sidestepping her.

“Oh, don’t be so tense… Let me help to relax you…”

“So…  Boop-Oop-A-Doop … Who has sent you here?”

“Boop-what?” The girl asked.

“Never mind. Ask your grandma about Betty Boop later. Who sent you here?”

“Well… Raditz-sama…”

“Okay, go and offer your services to ‘Raditz-sama’. Please pass on that his efforts were NOT appreciated.”

“But…”

The girl tried to protest, but Vegita soon enough put her out of his apartment.

“I can’t go out dressed like this!” She shouted, from outside his door.

“And how the hell have you come in like that, then?” He asked, from the inside of his apartment.

“My coat is over there!”

Vegita pinched the bridge of his nose, and then started to hunt for the girl’s coat. He found it thrown behind his sofa. It was disgustedly pink and short. Very short. Shit.

Vegita opened the door again, and the girl rushed inside the apartment. Vegeta gave her back her coat.

“Girl. This world… It will consume you.”

“Whatever, old man.” She replied, before running away from his apartment. How much running had she done in the last 10 seconds?

Vegeta sighed and turned to go to his bedroom, when he finally noticed the low sound of a rapid typing .

“Bad… Bad man. You just destroyed that girl’s dream, you know?” The blue haired beauty lying on her stomach in his bed said. She was still clad in her business suit but barefoot, furiously working on her laptop, sited in front of her.

“And what exactly was her dream?” He asked, raising one bruised eyebrow.

“Get pregnant, cause a very big scene and then marry the mean but rich and famous football player.”

“This is a very poor excuse for a plan. I don’t have a very good record of marrying the mothers of my children.”

“Touché.” She said, without raising her eyes from her work.

“So, who has sent YOU?” He asked, already tired of this game. He simply began to take off his hoodie, wincing when he agitated his bruised shoulder.

“I sent myself, you know.” 

“Sure you did. Did the red bimbo know you were here?”

“Hum… I don’t think so. A pity you discarded her. You look like you could use a threesome.”

“Vulgar woman…” He said, while trying to find a way to remove his t-shirt that didn’t involve lifting his right arm. Why the hell had he not put a button down after the game?

Bulma smiled at that, and finally abandoned her spot at his bed and came near his side. She rasped her red nails at the bare skin of his waist, while he was still fighting with his t-shirt. With a delicate touch, she helped him out of the piece of clothing with minimal fuss. To help him to pretend that she didn’t do that to help him at all, she grazed her nails at his nipple.

“You know… Not many men can tell that about themselves but… You look damn sexy getting beaten up.” She said, getting near his chiseled chest.

“What do you want Bulma?” He asked.

What Bulma really wanted was to know if he was in pain and if he had already eaten. She wanted to get a look at Vegeta’s right shoulder. She knew he was a tough guy and knew how to take a beating in the football field. Hell, he knew how to take a beating from life too, but she got concerned when she saw him doing an almost perfect fling with his left hand earlier, at the end of the game. Vegeta was practically ambidextrous, but he would never do a fling with his left hand if he wasn’t aiming for a perfect result. In that moment she knew something very wrong had happened during the game, and blamed herself for not watching it from the beginning. 

“Vegeta… I…” She started to say, but was interrupted by him.

“Is the boy alright?”

“Trunks? Yeah. He is healthy. He is… He is happy Vegita.”

“Are you alright?” He asked then.

“Are you?” She asked, instead of replying. Every time since Trunks was born he would asked her the same two things whenever she looked for him. Why couldn’t he grasp that she wasn’t there because she needed something from him, but because she could offer him something instead?

“I’m fine.” He replied, turning away.

“Of course you are.” She murmured, noticing the dark bruises on his back. That must have been a tough game. “So, did you refuse the girl because you’re finally too old for some fun or was she just not your type?”

“You will need to try harder, woman.” Vegeta said, unceremoniously putting her laptop on a chair so he could lie down on his bed, over his blankets.

“Harder being the key of what I came for.” She said, getting in the bed and crawling over him. She slowly opened the fly of his trousers and put her hand inside his waistband, before slowly massaging his crouch. “Let’s see what I can get from such a battered old man like you.”

Vegeta smirked and relaxed on his pillows. Let’s see indeed. 


	3. About black eyes and fair hair

It turned out that Bulma could get a lot from him. Two orgasms and a murmured conversation, to be exact.

“So, are you still dating that weakling?” Vegeta asked, after he had finished cleaning himself with his discarded t-shirt and was trying to get between his sheets.

“One black eye from you and will he be forever the weakling?” Bulma asked, stretching her nude body over the blankets.

“He tried to dodge it, and then he ran and hid under a table. A fucking table, Bulma. Between an old lady’s legs. You do know that it was SHE and not me who delivered him the black eye?” Vegeta asked.

Bulma burst out laughing.

“No, I definitely DID NOT know that. Why were you fighting, anyway?”

“He thought I needed to be man enough and marry you when you got pregnant.”

“Oh, and then you just went and punched him?”

“No, I said that if he were man enough to satisfy you in the first place, I would be out of the picture.”

Bulma smacked his good shoulder for good measure, but knew it would not hurt. Much.

“Jerk.” She said.

Although the absolute machismo of Vegeta’s statement, it was somewhat of the truth. After their first time, Bulma moved out of the country for college and lost contact with both Yamcha and Vegeta. Yamcha because she hated him fiercely for cheating on her on the only night she ever asked anything from him. Vegeta because of some very more grievous and serious circumstances. Nonetheless, some few years after she came back to assume her position as CEO of Capsule Corporation, she reencountered a Yamcha that was all mature, all successful and all promises. And they dated again, for some time. And because of Yamcha, she reencountered some high school friends of her:  [ Krillin ](http://dragonball.wikia.com/wiki/Krillin) , who was a physical education teacher, and Son Goku, her best friend during high school, who was, at that time, starting a career as a professional football player, still under the wings of his big brother Raditz. Raditz, who was a famous professional player himself, and teammate of the rising football star Vegeta. It was funny how, for the second time, it was because of Yamcha that Bulma has reencountered the lost Sayan Prince. 

Oh yes. The lost Sayan Prince. That was a somewhat press codename that was given to Vegeta a long time before the very circumstances that made Bulma lose contact with him the first time. And some other times in the middle, that may or may not explain why Vegeta thought she was dating Yamcha still, when he was nothing more than her friend for nearly eight years. Since before she got pregnant, actually. Speaking of Yamcha…

“And then what?” She asked. Seeing Vegeta hesitating to answer, she asked again. “And then what happened Vegeta?”

“He said that paying a junkie for a quickie had nothing to having a man.” Vegeta hesitated for some time. “You will remember that at that time your father had temporally bought the whole team so he could force me to go to rehab…”

Her father had bought the entire team to TRY to make Vegeta go to rehab, what wasn’t going to happen that way. She knew that, Vegeta knew that, her father knew that. Even her mother knew that. In the end both Bulma and her mother had obliged him to sell it back and that was the nearest he came to a football match in his life.

“Oh… I… I didn’t know. I didn’t know he went so low…”

“I tried to punch him, but I was so furious that he was able to dodge it. I broke the table that was behind him instead. Nappa was with me and tried to hold me down. Before I knew what was happening, Yamcha had hid under a table and the old lady was banging his head with her purse, while Nappa and Raditz were divided between holding me and laughing uncontrollably. And then the reporters came, the circus began and you know the rest.”

Yeah. She did know the rest. When the reporters came, it didn’t matter who was the guilty part. It only mattered what would sell. And between Vegeta and Yamcha, targeting Vegeta and his tragic past and irritable persona was an easy way to make money: just because they could bring many, many things back every time.

Yamcha was a love rat and, at the same time, naïve as a pre teen. But he sold a very convincing image of a good boy. Having a really good and generous heart helping him a lot in this area. Yamcha was always all smiles and playing around, with a boyish talent that only brought entertainment to his career.

Bulma was out of question firstly because nobody knew for sure she was involved. And those who suspected would never dare to try. Try to fuss into her life, be it personal or business, and she would destroy you. There was no rift into her barriers that allowed any kind of comment.

Vegeta, on the other hand… Was the perfect target of reporters since he was five and was disowned by his father, when Dr. Vegeta claimed that none of the two children was his, even though Vegeta was really just a mini him. The scene that followed was not pretty. And in the middle of his father coldness and his mother hysterics, all the attention fell into the alarmed little boy who could do little more than to be shy in front of the cameras – that was when he got the nickname of lost Sayan Prince. Tarble was barely a toddler at the time, and nobody was really interested in seeing him sleeping or crying. And then, not long after Vegeta turned twelve and it appeared that he would live more of his life in the middle of that war than he lived out of it… Dr. Vegeta was murdered. And then his mother married his associate, Mr. Frieza Kold. Bulma had frequented the same school as Vegeta at that time. She remembers how awfully quiet he got in the months following his father death and mother’s marriage. It concerned her and her family to the point in which Vegeta had passed weeks on end at her house, because he refused to be under the same roof as his stepfather. Until, one day, when he was fifteen, he was gone. Only to be found again at that night at the bar at Bulma’s prom night. And Vegeta’s family stopped being the center of attention for a while, only being announced on tv in a random report about his father still unsolved murder or the falling of his empire. The rest, Bulma only got to know when she came back to the country, after much has already happened and was solved.

Not long after the night they got together for the first time, Vegeta lost his mother and brother to a stupid robbery gone wrong. His mother died due a shot very well aimed between her eyes. His brother was hit by a stray bullet, and bleed to death in the kitchen’s floor. They were celebrating her birthday. Vegeta talked to her earlier that day and wasn’t aware they would do anything. With Mr. Kold out of the country, Vegeta was alone trying to figure out what he was supposed to do before he could bury the only family he ever had. And then, out of the blue, fiscal crime over fiscal crime was discovered, and almost a decade of fraud, falsification, depravity and psychosis was revealed: Mr. Frieza Kold, a psychopath as sinister as you will ever encounter, had stolen and dismantled the Sayan Empire completely, just for the fun of it, after having murdered Dr. Vegeta, forcing Vegeta’s mother to marry him and, in the end, ordering her and her sons dismissal. There was one very iconic recording of a broken Vegeta looking at a cell phone camera one reporter was holding, in which he said that ‘even to die, it appears I’m not good enough for this family’. 

With Frieza arrested and under trial, every possible loose end was Vegeta’s responsibility. Bulma’s father has helped the last Sayan with the funeral, and told her that if he did not, it was possible that Vegeta would still be seated at the plastic chair at the morgue, looking straight ahead. Bulma never quit forgave herself for not having come back when she heard about that. In the following weeks, Vegeta refused any kind of help or contact, and the press was going wild. When the time for Frieza’s sentencing and execution came around, Vegeta had sold every single thing he had to his name at the time – what happened to be not much at all – and disappeared into the thin air. And that was the last Bulma has heard about the Sayan (once) Prince for some years, until she encountered him in a stupid sports event she was only attending because she was again dating Yamcha and his friend Son-kun wanted her to meet his older brother.

Later, she got to know what happened and, although she knew it was the past, she was still worried senseless about it. Soon after he disappeared, Vegeta lost himself to cocaine. He had a shitty flat he lived in, among other junkies and an old lady that had much more cats around her than teeth in her mouth. Lost in the drug induced stupor, Vegeta himself wasn’t certain of the things he may have done in that time. What he did remember he didn’t talk about. But he must have been damn resourceful, since he had been using the knowledge he got from his almost finished degree in chemistry to elude many drugs dealers around the city. It was doing exactly that, one day, that he got spotted and almost killed. And wouldn’t destiny be just as generous to not let him get killed that easy? Surely he was shot in the stomach and got to the hospital just in time to be recognized by the Warriors’ coach Nappa, who was there because of a cold, for all things. And Nappa went insane when he saw the boy in that state. After all, Nappa was really impressed when, not even four years ago, he saw the very same boy do the most perfect kick at a college’s football championship.

From there, it was a matter of getting Vegeta recovered enough to play one football game and it was damn easy to convince the Warriors’ team owner to contract the boy. And so his career begun and skyrocket to the point he was frequently cited as the most talented football player of all times. Because with time Vegeta got not only very physical fit and technically flawless, as he got an understanding of the game that neared the supernatural. He could predict impossible moves and appeared to always know exactly where he, and the men under his command, should be at all times. He was also such a brilliant strategist that sometimes you had the impression you were seeing him playing chess, and not football at all. And he surely knew how to take a beating in the field. He must be the most target player in the field in all history too, because Bulma was certain he never, ever left one official game without at least one contusion.

But getting back to the point, in the middle of all the chaos that was his entire life, in the end of that disastrous bar fight, of course Vegeta was to be targeted. After all he emanated a dark, cold aura, and was the one guaranteed to sell the most long and profitable history. Not to mention that he really was preparing himself to go to rehab, again, (and against the previous owner of the team will that wanted him in the season) after learning that Bulma was pregnant of his child – what fortunately nobody but Bulma, Bulma’s family and Yamcha knew at the time.

It got so out of proportion that he did get his leave, ever if for the rest of the team to be able to train in peace. Not that it mattered, because without Vegeta they lost in the semi-finals. But, the thing is, they explored so much of Vegeta’s image, both because without him his team lost and also because of his life and the rehab thing, that Vegeta was almost going hysteric: not really a good thing in the best of times, much less when someone was going throw what he was. Three weeks into that insanity and Bulma decided that enough was enough. She went to the clinic Vegeta was, made a show of entering it and then spent an entire afternoon with him, out of the camera’s eye. In reality they passed the whole day playing cards, but the thing is: nobody interferes with Bulma Briefs’ life, and so although Vegeta’s life was still speculated, mainly regarding their relationship, he was left alone. By the time the press discovered that Bulma was pregnant, Vegeta was already out and being a magnificent player again, and other than an odd speculation or another, there wasn’t a fuss.

“Trunks has been asking about you, you know?” She said.

“Me specifically?” He asked.

“No, about his father.”

Vegeta sighed.

“I thought he was satisfied the last time?”

“Vegeta… Last time he was four years old. Now he is almost seven.”

“I’ve told you before, woman. My name is on his birth certificate. You may tell him whatever you want. It may even be good… One more fan to the Warriors cannot hurt.”

“Funny for you to say that. Some months ago he was using that ‘Badman’ special shirt they made when you got that prize, remember? And I asked if he was a Warrior. He said it was illogical to cheer for any team in which you were not, since they would be purged. I’ve no idea where he heard that word.”

“I think Nappa said it in one interview at the beginning of the last season.” Vegeta replied, absentmindedly.

“However, Trunks already knows you are his father. I think that what he really wants is to know you.” Bulma said, holding her breath.

“When I told you there would be a day in which the boy would need a father you said I shouldn’t worry.”

“He does not NEED a father. He wants one.”

“Do you remember what I said?”

She did. He said he didn’t know what a father was and would never be one, so she would be better off looking for another man to take the role. She didn’t do that at the time, and she wouldn’t take it now.

“Vegeta… You need to stop being so harsh on yourself. Go to Capsule Corporation one afternoon, have lunch with us. Talk to Trunks for ten minutes and then go home. He would be delighted, I would be delighted and you would have a full stomach, one fervent fan and a very grateful bedmate. Tell me, how is it a bad deal?”

“If I agree to all this inanity, will you let me get some sleep?”

“I will even sing you a lullaby.”

“Please, don’t.” He said. Some minutes later he murmured. “Make a barbecue on Sunday. Invite whoever you want. I will make an appearance.”

Bulma closed her eyes and sent a silent thanks to the kais. When she turned to properly thank Vegeta, he was already asleep. She took some time to examine the bruises on his face, and the swelling of his still bandaged shoulder. Satisfied it was as taken care of as it could be, she got up, dressed and drove home. She had a barbecue to plan. 


	4. a flash of violet and red

Sunday came and went, and life just went on, for some time. She put a barbecue together with one phone call and one e-mail (this one to her friends so they would attend) and was vibrant as a honey bee the whole weekend. She did not tell Trunks Vegeta was coming by, but told him her friends would be there and he should be prepared to play with them, if he wanted to.

“It is useless to play football with them, you know. It is a waste of resources because they won’t go rough on me. But… If Yamcha is here we could play a little bit of baseball?” Trunks retorted.

Bulma wondered for a little bit when the boy has learned something like ‘a waste of resources’ when she noticed he has asked a question.

“Sure kiddo. But Kulilin will be here too, you know? I’m certain he could play anything you want with you. I also invited Goku and his family, so maybe Gohan and Goten will also come…”

“Uhn… Yeah… Goten…”

“I thought you and Goten were friends?”

“Yeah, it is just… Sometimes I think it would be nice to have a big brother and Gohan is nice… But when Goten is here… Well, Goten IS his brother, you know?”

Bulma tried to get a hold onto her emotions, but she knew it was futile. Her boy was talking about a brother, but she could easily enough trade that by ‘a father’ and the statement would still be true. All her friends were really nice to Trunks, but just as nice to Goten when he was with him. For Trunks, it just meant divided attention.

And then the lunch begun and her friends arrived. Kulilin came with her wife and daughter, Yamcha came bringing a new baseball glove. Piccolo, a tall and olive skinned guy so heavily tattooed his skin actually looked green, arrived sometime later. Bulma didn’r really know Piccolo, but he played in the same team as Goku, and if he arrived it meant that Goku and probably Gohan were also coming later. 

Trunks was catching the balls Yamcha was throwing to him to test his new glove when Vegeta arrived, in his loud black motorcicle. Yamcha didn’t have time to even complain about the aborted game and already Trunks was running towards the entrance, the glove forgotten on the grass.

Vegeta was still taking his gloves off, with his helmet still over his head, when the boy approached him.

“Hi. I’m Trunks.” He said, not daring to get too close, but wanting it badly.

“I know.” Vegeta replied.

“And you’re Vegeta Sayan III, best football player of all times.” Trunks continued stating.

Vegeta let a small smile escape and retorted, finally free from his helmet.

“I also know that, boy.”

“My mom says you are my father.” Trunks said then.

“Does she now?”

“Yeah. Is it true?”

“Yes.”

“So… Why have we never done anything? Like father and son?”

“I’m not a good father, boy.”

Trunks got silent after that. Vegeta sighed. After almost a minute in silence, he took a deep breath and asked.

“Where is your mother?”

As soon as her guests spotted Vegeta, they went silent. Bulma, however, was jubilant.

“Hey! You came!” She said, running toward Vegeta and her son, but stopping before touching either of them.

“And it would appear you did invite anyone you wanted.”

“Well, I…”

“I said I would be here, woman, and here I am. I think you promised me a full stomach?” 

“Yeah… I did. Come on, I will tell the staff to start serving the lunch.”

Goku and his family arrived half an hour later. Trunks was so entertained talking at Vegita about the last Warriors game that the boy didn’t even noticed. 

Vegita was still eating while Trunks was animatedly talking about a game that Vegita was sure the boy knew more about than himself, who actually was in the game, when the Sayan noticed that somehow almost all the male half of the party was around, listening and sometimes making small comments. Vegeta raised his eyes enough to see Son Goku and his two sons eating from a high piled plate. He briefly nodded as a greeting while the other player waved somewhat enthusiastically. Vegita ignored him again until his youngest had something to add to the conversation.

“Didn’t it hurt when Dodoria crashed against you?” The boy had asked.

Vegeta looked from his food to the boy, who looked genuinely worried about… About something. He then looked at Goku, who appeared somewhat embarrassed, to look at Trunks, who was strangely dejected. What the hell?

“It did.” He simply answered.

“He broke dad’s ankle once. Did he break yours too?” The kid continued.

Vegeta stopped eating for some seconds to process that and remembered just the scene in which Goku had played against that bald pineapple of a man and got hurt. It had been a spectacular crash that had made Goku stay weeks outside the field, and led the Stars (Dodoria’s team) to the finals against the Warriors. And what a victory to Vegeta was that game.

“No. But I landed wrong and bruised my shoulder. I’m holding him responsible by having to do the other flings with my left hand and all the resulting miscalculations.”

There was a short intake of breath around him, and just then Vegeta noticed that they probably didn’t know that he was hurt (so Bulma hadn’t told anyone, interesting). Would Goku or Piccolo try to take that to their advantage in the next game? Would one of them report that to the media? 

“So, was it really an accident when you broke Dodoria’s nose?” Trunks asked.

That was a video that had gone somewhat viral in the last days, of Dodoria taking out his helmet in the middle of the game (nobody knew why) just to have a ball landing square at his nose. When they asked Vegeta about it later he said it was an accident.

“Yes.” He said. Two mouthfuls later he added. “I was aiming to his head. The ball landed wrong.”

Trunks chuckled. Some second later, Gohan asked.

“But how did you know he was going to take his helmet off?”

Vegeta shrugged before answering.

“He was scratching his left eye since he landed on me. I knew he would have to take his helmet off at some point.”

“But how did you know it was at that point?” Gohan asked at the same time that Goku whispered “How did you notice that in the middle of a game?”

“I just saw him distracted. When Raditz passed near him I thought that his head would cushion the ball enough for Raditz picking it up and run.”

And that was exactly what happened. The ball landed neatly into Raditz distracted hands, and he actually held on it tightly. The only problem was that instead of running he fell off laughing. Vegeta was so angry about the lost touchdown that he never got a moment to appreciate Dodoria’s swollen face. Good for his version of the story, of course.

“Is your shoulder alright now?” Trunks asked then, with a very worried expression. Vegeta actually got curious about it.

“Yes. It is good as long as I don’t land on it again anytime soon.” He replied, somewhat unconcerned about anyone trying that move on him.

“Will you play the next game?” Trunks asked.

“I would even if I had lost my arm boy. As long as I had the other one.”

Trunks smiled and Vegeta was dumbstruck for some time. Was the boy happy he was fine or was the boy relieved the quarterback of his team would play the next game how it should be played?

“You must be tired of talking about football all the time. I sure tire of Kulilin talking about the regionals again and again…” Kulilin’s wife murmured.

Vegeta took a deep breath and has just opened his mouth to say he was tired of talking, period, when he saw Trunks looking at him, hanging on at every tiny shift in his expression. He was certain that any kind of discouragement toward Bulma’s friends would be met by a crestfallen expression in the boy’s face and he just couldn’t be responsible for that. He has promised Bulma one afternoon with the boy and he was going to give him at least that.

“Why would I ever tire of it? It is about my prowess we are talking about.” He said, winking at Trunks, who sure enough grinned back to him.

“Why not tell them about the rest of your life then?” Yamcha said, from the other side of the table. Vegeta didn’t even notice he was there.

“Yamcha…” Bulma, who was just passing by at that exact moment, warned, but Vegeta’s reply interrupted her.

“I could, although this is a subject I’m rather tired of. Is there anything about it that the media left out that might interest to you?”

The tension in the air was palpable. Kulilin tried to intervene, joking about something or other, but Yamcha continued to talk, unaware (or better yet, unconcerned).

“Why don’t you tell them about all those days were only the next hit mattered? Of all that brilliant acquaintances you made on the streets? It must really be educational, you know. Play sports, stay out of drugs campaign and all.” 

“I’m clean Yamcha.” He was. He’d been clean for eight years. No cocaine, no cigarettes, no alcohol. No muscle relaxants and not even painkillers when it was his choice.

“And do you think that overcoming your own shit means you get to be a symbol for the youth?”

“I never intended to be one. I will never be a good one, at any rate.” Vegeta said, looking straight at Trunks. He then decided that he wasn’t hungry anymore, and pushed his plate to the side. “You can take my post if you’re capable, Weakling.”

He thought about getting up, make his goodbyes to Bulma and Trunks and getting on his way, but Trunks hand in his stopped him. He looked straight at the boy’s eyes and saw only longing in them.

“Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle, boy?”

“Yeah. Mom has one…”

Taking it for the dismiss it wasn’t, Vegeta shook his head, retrieved his hand and got up. He was halfway to the exit when Bulma got up with him.

“Vegeta…”

“I can’t be what the boy wants Bulma. It was a mistake coming here.”

“You’re the best football player in the world! You do know that is the dream father of almost every boy in this country? Right now, even not knowing you, all he wants is to be just like you!”

“Well, he has started fine. He is already the heir of a multibillionaire empire growing up without a father. Lose everything, grown hysteric and let him on his own devices. He may end up a junkie and got himself his own bullet. And maybe, if he is luck enough, he will be good at something then, and may attract the attention of some helpless woman…” He spat.

He never saw the slap coming. It still left him with five very red imprints in his cheek.

“Don’t, ever again, belittle my son’s life or mine.” She said, before turning away and going back to her party.

Vegeta swore under his breath for some minutes. He then took a deep breath, put his helmet on and got on his motorcycle. He was promised a full stomach, a fervent fan and a very grateful bedmate. At the end of the day, he got none of that and knew it was all his fault.

He drove off and somehow put all that day in the background of his mind, trying to focus on the end of the season. He could do that for two weeks and one more game before the plan was shot to hell. That life would always disagree with him was just fucking ironic. His memory of the crash was disjointed at best. He remembers a flash of red, water and thunder. And then he knows only darkness and whispers of his name, for a long, long time.


	5. Blackness

He has been on and out for some time now. One twitch of an eye… His head lightly rolling onto his pillow. He was awakening, the doctor told her. Any day know he might fully open his eyes, although he may not be coherent. Or he could stay that way, in the middle, forever. She should not hold her hopes up, either way.  If Vegeta woke up, if, not when, it was highly probable that he would not even be able to breathe by himself. His mouth twitched again, under his oxygen mask, and Bulma took his hand, although she didn’t know if he would ever feel that.

“It’s alright. Everything is going to be alright. Just come back to us.” She says. But in her mind she whispered that given the choice, she was afraid he would prefer to die in that hospital bed instead to wake up and be obliged to face what his life has become.

When he eventually woke up fully and was coherent enough, his doctor explained his condition to him. He listened throw the haze of a dream. More importantly, he didn’t remember any of that. Just a flash of red light, water and thunder.

For what he understood of the tale, it would appear that he got involved on a bar fight. Actually, it was somewhat common that Stars and Warriors would end in some kind of confrontation. What was different altogether was that Vegeta would be in the middle of it. Later, much later, through the criminal investigation, he would understand that the fight begun, he left in his motorcycle and was chased by a pair of drunk Dodoria and Zarbon, in Zarbon’s red sports car. They teased and haunted, and Vegeta was unable to put some distance between then, due to the heavy raining and heavy traffic – until he heard it. Zarbon has lost control of his car and crashed straight to a truck coming from the other direction in the highway. Vegeta managed to look at it over his shoulder, just to get distracted and do not have time to dodge the too fast car that was now too close to him, the driver probably also distracted by the crash and the rain. Zarbon, Dodoria and the truck driver died on the impact. The driver of the car that crashed onto Vegita broke her leg, lost her car and got a two months leave from work plus a reimburse from insurance. Vegeta was hurled away from the highway and landed on his neck on a muddy sideway. Spinal cord injury. He lost one tier of his motorcycle, the clothes he was wearing and any feeling below the clavicles. He never ever remembered to ask about the bike’s insurance.

When he first learned he would never be able to move his body again, he felt nothing. It was so fitting that he felt nothing in his soul along with nothing in his body that he started to laugh. Sometime between chuckles he asked the doctor if his soul was broken too. The doctor did not answer, but Vegeta knew that the answer was yes. He was still laughing when Bulma entered his room, although it was a quiet laugh then, interrupted by a weak coughing. It is difficult to laugh so hard when you need a machine to pump air into your lungs. At some point he noticed that there were tears in his eyes and he did not know if it was because of the laughing or the coughing, but he closed his eyes either way and tried to move his head away from Bulma. She responded by catching a tear drop with the pad of her right thumb.

“You know I will help you, right?” She asked.

Vegeta did not answer, frustrated as he was to be unable to truly hide his face.

The days passed by and some people would come and go. Vegeta did not really care. Bulma came back the first few days to tell him sweet nothings that he only ignored. The doctors did it too and also told him about physiotherapy, about the frequency he would need to get his intestines and bladder emptied, about the likelihood of him ever having an erection again. Bulma brought Trunks with her two or three times, but the boy said nothing. Vegeta didn’t even acknowledge him. Nappa has come one time, but aside from telling him how sorry he was and that he could be counted on anything Vegeta needed, he had very little to say. The Warriors also came by, one by one, but none had anything to say besides wishing him to get well. And he knew he wouldn’t. The most interesting one was Raditz, who came drunk, and swore that he was going to punch whoever they put in his place in the team and what kind of a hell a life in which you can’t get laid must be.

Obviously Vegeta knew that he would never be able to walk again, so it was obvious he also would never be able to play another football match. But until that moment he totally forgot that someone would get his place as the Warriors’ quarterback. One week later, Goku came by to visit, with one black eye courtesy of his brother, to tell Vegeta he was contracted to stay in his place, but didn’t want Vegeta to know on the tv. Vegeta didn’t answer. Vegeta never answered any of them.

 

Until the day they just stopped coming. Of course nobody was coming. It was the last game of the season. All Warriors would be playing under Goku’s command, and all the people in his life would be watching the game. He wondered if Trunks already had the shirt of the new quarterback. He had just heard someone cheering one apparently brilliant move made by Goku from his neighbor television, when Bulma came by. She seated at his side. Oh yeah, Bulma never really liked football to begin with.

“I came to ask you to think about coming to my home after you’re discharged. Nappa passed by. He said you could stay with him if you wanted to. It is possible, you know? You have enough money to hire help, and of course I’m willing to do anything that I can.”

“Today is the last game of the season.” Vegeta said as an answer.

“I know.”

“Before I started playing, they always called me the Lost Sayan Prince. And then I was Vegeta Sayan III, the best football player of the year. Sometimes, when the reporter did not really want to talk to me, I was the Warriors’ quarterback. Today, this man is Raditz’ brother.”

Bulma knew. That was actually why Trunks didn’t get his father’s last name. No need for another Sayan Prince to be born. The Briefs Prince was already bad enough.

“The boy actually called me that, you know? Before asking me if I was his father.”

“Vegeta…”

“This thing between us… It never meant anything for me and you don’t need to pretend it did for you, or that you care now.”

That should be the saddest thing she has ever heard. That should, for sure, have broken her heart. Instead Bulma giggled and then burst out laughing. The thing is, she couldn’t, for her life, believe in what he was saying, not after everything they had gone together. Not after she saw a tear escaping Vegeta’s eye to hide in his hairline. The thing was, even broken, lying in a hospital bed with the certainty that he would not get up on his own again, that line just proved to her that Vegeta was still Vegeta. He has lost the feeling on his body, not his mind. And most importantly, not his pride. They  entire relationship based on the pretense that one was just taking what they wanted from the other, on the small delicacies one would freely give the other with that great air of magnanimity and long suffering like one was doing such a big favor because… Well, it was a pretty and very stupid lie they had constructed along the years. And if Vegeta wanted it that way, so be it.

“I don’t care, you big headed vegetable. But if anyone is going to have photographs of you having your ass cleaned for you, that someone is going to be me. Just imagine the amount of bribery I would be capable of?”

And that, somehow, worked. Because Vegeta used all the movement he still had in his body to turn his head and look directly into her blue eyes.

“Stupid woman, I’m unable to bowel. There will be no wiping my ass anytime soon.” He said, but he was smiling. For the first time that whole weak.

“Such a pity. It is still a magnificent ass.” 

 “It will vanish soon enough.”

“Well, then it is better for you to start cultivating something beautiful in your soul, Mister. Because I’m under no obligation to look at your grump face when you lose your muscle tone.” She replied.

“With a fucking big house such as yours, I will dare to say that you will have to get really out of your way to look at me at all.”

Bulma smiled. Vegeta closed his eyes. One month later, he was transported to the Capsule Corporation Complex.


	6. blue skyes and fuchia ice cream

 

_One year later_

“Enlighten me what the fucking hell I’m doing here again?” Vegeta asked from his wheelchair. Bulma took advantage from his snarl and put some popcorn inside his mouth.

“You are here to see your only son to play his first baseball game.” She replied.

Vegeta moved what he could of his neck to see the conditions of the terrain and the seats he was supposed to take to see that joke of a school game. Although his wheelchair was rather impressive in wheelchair terms (Capsule Corporation has taken the concept to a whole new level after Bulma started to think ways to make Vegeta’s life a tiny bit less miserable – but there wasn’t much voice command could do) it was still just that, a wheelchair. He was still looking at the seats with disdain when he got sight of Raditz and his clown of a brother, current quarterback of the Warriors, best player of the year and this year league champion, Goku.

He barely had time to snarl before Goku came near him.

“Hey! So good to see you out of C.C.!” Goku said.

“Not my idea. I just can do nothing to stop shit happening to me anymore.” Vegeta replied, warily looking to Goku’s stretched palm. What the hell the clown thought he should do about it? Shake it?

“Geee… Such a foul mood… The boys will do great!” The younger man replied, finally taking that offensive hand away to scratch at his head.

Vegeta rolled his eyes as Raditz added that Goten was in the same team as Trunks and would also be playing.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt you, gentleman, but we have a rather pressing matter to solve.” Bulma replied, already wheeling Vegeta away to procure seats for then. At least the school was accessible for his chair, even if he did need some help from Bulma and, to his mortification, Raditz, to get to his seat, before Bulma pressing the button that would shrink the wheelchair to a tiny capsule that Bulma put in her breast pocket.

“I’m going to get some more snacks. Do you want anything?” Bulma asked.

“Cocaine if they have some. Heroin will also do.” Vegeta answered.

Raditz, Goku, his wife and older son had the grace to look horrified. Bulma, who had lived with Vegeta’a terrible sense of humor for more than a decade, just smiled.

“Sorry hon, you will have to wait until a more private time… Too many cameras around. I may get you a hot dog, though.”

“More harm than the drugs.” He replied, closing his eyes.

“I will take that as a yes.”

Bulma then got up, pressed a kiss to Vegeta’s cheek and left to hunt her snacks.

“So, how are you doing?” Raditz asked, somewhat shy. Funny that, Raditz was never shy when talking to Vegeta before. Maybe almost nine months not talking to him had developed some sense in the man.

“Oh! I’m wonderful. Just found the perfect cure for those cramps that were plaguing me. Haven’t felt one in almost two years!” Vegeta replied.

“Hey man… No need to be so harsh…” Gohan started to say, but Vegeta just snorted.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you pal.” Raditz started. “But…”

“But life still goes on, right?” Vegeta replied, turning his head away as much as he could. “Life always goes on.”

They stayed quiet after that, and in three minutes Bulma was back with a hot dog that she helped Vegeta to eat, and a fuchsia colored strawberry ice cream that she never ate because it melted while she was otherwise occupied.

“Hey!” A man said while seating at a vacant seat at Bulma’s side.

“Yamcha! You came!” She said, while whipping Vegeta’s mouth.

“I would never lose Trunks playing baseball! He might follow my steps, you know?”

Vegeta rolled his eyes and looked at the field, where the game was starting.

 

It was a game as good as it gets with a bunch of ten year old children trying to throw or swing at a ball. Needless to say, Bulma was bored out of her mind by the middle of it. She was trying very hard to ignore Yamcha’s shouted advice for Trunks to pitch a low ball, until she heard, beneath the cheers of the Son family and that myriad of advices, Vegeta murmuring something.

“No Trunks… High balls. He will send it out of the stadium…”

And just like that Trunks threw a low ball that the other boy caught and sent over their heads. He did a spectacular homerun after that, to Trunks dismay.

“Vegeta… How did you know?” Bulma whispered back.

“What?” Vegeta asked, not taking his eyes from the game.

Bulma didn’t reply, but when Vegeta murmured something about the left corner of the field just at the time that Trunks looked at her, she signaled to him to run as fast as he could to the opposite corner. And just as he arrived at the left corner a ball landed neatly at his glove. It was an impossible move that earned them the game. And as Trunks was cheered by a horde of crazy parents and students and Yamcha was babbling about the boy having potential to be as good as himself, Bulma could only stare at the boy’s father.

“What?” He asked, noticing her gaze.

“Just how good are you at predicting their moves?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Nothing Vegeta. Really nothing.”  

“Crazy blue harpy.” He murmured.

  

 

 

That night, after Trunks has eaten pizza with his coach – who was actually Kulilin - and team, he was a ball of excitement.

“It was incredible! Was it what you felt when you won a game, Papa?”

“It depends on what you are feeling boy.” Vegeta replied, not averting his eyes from the text he was reading in the small screen that Bulma has installed in his wheelchair. So with enough energy it was possible to induce the electrons in the atom’s surface to…

“I… I’m feeling like I proved them all wrong, you know?” The boy replied.

In Trunks school practically every single boy was the son of someone both ridiculously rich and famous, so the boy wasn’t anything special by being the son of Bulma Briefs and, although it would impact his fame in a rather small scale, a paralyzed ex-football player. But he was indeed son of a personal friend of the baseball coach and of Yamcha Bandit who was among the best five baseball players of the year. He and Goten had heard all year that they were only in the team because of their family. Goten had cried every time someone said it was unfair that he got his father to train him – what was actually true – while Trunks had answered that it wasn’t the boy’s fault if their dads where rich fat old men who couldn’t do shit with their sons. Ow, that had backfired beautifully once when one of the boys answered that Trunks should mind his mouth, since his own father was the most useless of them all. Trunks came home that night with a black eye, a suspension and a very loose smile.

“Yeah. I know. It was how I felt, yes. At the beginning, at least.” Vegeta answered, only half paying attention to the boy.

“And at the end?” Trunks questioned.

“At the end it was just what they expected from me. It was just what I expected from myself. It was more a sensation of a job done than anything else.”

“But you were the best, Papa.”

“And the best was what was expected from me. I wouldn’t be able to maintain it for much longer, nonetheless. I was getting old.”

“Bullshit!” Trunks replied.

“Do not let your mother hear you saying that word.”

Trunk lowered his eyes to the floor. Vegeta finally raised his eyes from the screen.

“Hey kid. You did a great game today.”

“But what if I don’t in the next game?”

“You are more than the games you play.”

“Of course you are. You are everything to us, an athlete or not.” Bulma said, entering the room at that instant and catching only the last sentence Vegeta has said.  

Trunks brightened and started to talk animatedly to his mother, until he fell asleep on the couch. Bulma tsked and then got the heavy boy on her arms.

“I will put this one on bed. Then I will come back to do the same for you.”

“You do know that I can do that myself, right?”

“Oh, I was under the impression you would like it.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes and kept reading, secretly wondering how much longer the woman would be able to pick the boy up. She did get strong in the last two years.

“Okay mister. Let’s get you settled, then.” Bulma said when she got downstairs again.

To put Vegeta to bed was a very easy affair nowadays, with both his chair and the bed being designed to facilitate the process. Vegeta was right when he said he could do that himself – well, with the help of the robots, but without Bulma. What was still tricky for the robots to do was to change Vegeta’s clothes, although they also managed that sometimes. However, Bulma was very eager to do that herself. Vegeta actually suspected that she never improved the robots in that area on purpose, as she was very diligently opening the buttons on his shirt and trousers.

“You still have a beautiful body, lover boy.” Bulma said, appreciatively looking at his scarred skin. He was a little paler and definitively thinner, but still fit.

“Since I’ve failed to cultivate that beautiful soul you’ve requested two years ago I think it is a good thing you thought about those muscle stimulators.”

“Yeah. My very own life sized Ken doll. I needed to keep it in good condition.” She replied.

Bulma then got one of his hands and started to massage it.

“You know I can’t feel that, right?” Vegeta asked.

“So you keep saying, every night. And every night I say the same to you. Its therapeutic, to not lose flexibility. To avoid atrophying.”

“Bulma…”

“For my peace of mind, dear.”

Vegeta tsked, but remained quiet while Bulma got on massaging his unfeeling body, until she got to his neck, when he groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I got caught into my bubble. Any scne in special you want to see?


End file.
